


the strangest things (are the things we least expect)

by keep_swinging



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Hopper POV-ish, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Snow Ball (Stranger Things), a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 11:32:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13546461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_swinging/pseuds/keep_swinging
Summary: The next time she gets to see him is in March.Or;Seeing Mike and Eleven interact after the Snow Ball makes Hopper realize that he can't keep them apart for another year, so he settles on March as an okay date. (And in no way does he mean a date, date.)





	the strangest things (are the things we least expect)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!   
> This was my first story for the Stranger Things fandom, and hopefully it's not too terrible. So this is basically just a few moments between Mike and Eleven through a POV that is somewhat Hopper's, somewhat not and what happens when they get to meet up again after the events of the Snow Ball. Also this, technically, takes place Post Season Two.
> 
> Comments and kudos mean the world if you could leave some, and I hope everyone enjoys!   
> [Story Originally Published January 1st, 2018.]

 

The Snow Ball ends at ten sharp, but kids don't start filing out the doors until ten-thirty, and that's a stretch for a middle school dance in itself. Hopper isn't grumpy, but he's tired, and he honestly just wants to go to sleep. But he wouldn't dare make Eleven feel rushed, sleep can wait, so he smokes a cigarette with Joyce as they share story after story from their high school days.

He waits with Joyce by her car until their group of misfits come out, hidden behind a large group of obnoxious girls. Dustin and Will are leading the group, chatting away excitedly, followed by Lucas and Max. Their hands are intertwined, and they're pushing and shoving at each other with shy looks on their faces. Max's cheeks are flushed red, and Lucas can't stop looking at her. Behind them are Nancy and Jonathan; the two are walking close enough to each other that their shoulders are bumping, but neither seems to mind.

Hopper's eyes finally land on the two kids trailing a little ways behind the group, and he feels his heart swell just a little bit at the sight of the genuine smile on Eleven's lips. They're walking slowly—not wanting the night to end—and Mike's arm is slung around her shoulders as Eleven leans into him, content. Hopper sees Mike whisper something to her as the front of the group reaches them, which gets a small laugh from Eleven and a grin from Mike.

Will folds into his mother's arms as soon as he's close enough, Joyce exhaling and hugging him back just as tight. A horn sounds from the far right and Dustin takes off, bidding his goodbye with a wave of his hand and some jumbled words as he heads towards where Steve's waiting. Max and Lucas voice their objections about Dustin ditching them before following.

"Bye Hop," Joyce says as she enters her car, followed by Will in the passenger seat. Hopper takes a step back and waves as the car rumbles to life and then slowly accelerates. Hopper sighs as he looks back to the remaining kids, Jonathan and Nancy talking lowly while Mike and Eleven hug. Hopper watches carefully as Eleven hugs him a little too tight, like as if this is going to be the last time she sees him, hands clutching the back of his suit and bunching the material.

But just as Hopper's mouth opens to interject and remind her Friday, Mike beats him to it.

He pulls back so he can see her face and smiles, taking one of her hands. "Hey," he mumbles, quietly enough that Hopper has to strain his ears to hear, "it's okay. I'll be seeing you soon. In a few months. It'll go by before you know it. I'll bring you Eggos and Rory the dinosaur so you got something to do."

Eleven looks at him for a moment, thinking. Then she nods, squeezing his hand. "Friday?"

"Friday." He confirms, sparing a glance at Hopper.

The older man nods and a weight is lifted off of Mike's shoulders. "I'll . . . miss you." Eleven says slowly, glancing down at their hands.

"Me too," he says, "but it's okay. We'll be okay."

"Okay," Eleven repeats, nodding. Mike grins.

"Mike!" Nancy calls from Jonathan's car, "We have to go!"

Mike turns back to Eleven, "So I'll see you soon?"

Their hands fall.

"Soon." She echoes, and hugs him one last time. Mike holds her tight before pulling away and turning around, running over to Jonathan's car. Eleven watches him get in and then the car pull away and looks over at Hopper when she feels his presence next to her.

"C'mon kid. Let's go home."

Her lips twitch into a small smile and Hopper pretends not to notice the way her opposite hand rests over-top Sarah's bracelet.

* * *

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

Hopper stops at the drugstore on the way home from work and browses their selection of calendars, mumbling to himself as he looks at all the designs. Puppies, kittens, flowers, zombies, bears . . . scenery. He plucks the calendar from the collection, flipping it around and taking a gander at the back of it. Beautiful places stare back at him—an endless ocean, the bitter arctic, a rainforest— it's perfect.

He takes it to the counter and pulls some money from his pocket, greeting the old man working with a neutral nod. "Heya Chief," he says as he takes the item and places it in a bag, collecting the money. "Getting an early start on the new year?"

Hopper shrugs and takes the plastic bag when it's handed to him, "Something like that."

_Tap-tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap._

The lock unclicks and his hand twists around the knob as he pushes the door open, entering the shabby cabin. It looks better than it did a few weeks ago; the shattered glass has been cleaned from the floors and the furniture put back in place. The windows are a bit more boarded up to protect against the chilly winter weather, and heat radiates from the heater humming in the corner.

The door closes behind Hopper with a bit of a slam from the wind, and Eleven jumps from her spot on the couch, her head snapping behind her. Hopper looks at her, holding a hand up in a partial wave. "It's alright. Just me. The wind caught the door." He triple locks it and makes his way over to the kitchen, sighing when he sees scraps of Eggo left on the counter and a half-eaten green bean in the sink.

"Please tell me you ate the leftover meatloaf in the fridge for dinner and not just Eggos." Work had ran late, and then he had to stop for the calendar, so he had sent her a message earlier about re-heating and eating the meatloaf for dinner, and he remembered specially saying  _no Eggos_.

"No." Eleven says, changing the channel on the TV, "Meatloaf. Then Eggos."

Hopper can't keep the smile off his face for a minute after hearing her play on the rules, "You were hungry, huh?" He glances up in time to see her nod, and the TV flicks as it changes channels again. He opens the fridge to grab a beer and whistles when he sees just how bare the interior is.

Besides the lone box of Eggos on the second shelf and a small pack of cheese on the third, his beer is the richest thing in there. "Ah shit, sorry kid. I didn't realize you were this low on food. I'll head to the grocery store tomorrow and pick you up some snacks."

He wasn't the best cook in town, but his meals weren't the worst either. He figures he could pass for a three-star chef at the least. After closing the fridge and placing his cold beer on the table, Hopper walks over and turns off the TV, causing Eleven to look up at him. He holds up the plastic bag and she reaches up and grabs it, staring at the material in shock.

"What's . . . this?" She questions, confusion written all over her face.

"It's called a bag. They're used to carry things. But what's important is what's inside." Eleven looks up at him and then back down at the bag, her tiny fingers tracing the plastic. She stops when she gets to the opening and the bag crinkles as she reaches in cautiously and pulls out the calendar. She looks at it in awe for a few moments, immersed by how shiny and pretty it is. Hopper gently takes it from her hands and rips the plastic off of it, tossing it in the trash as he walks over to the table.

"Word of the day," he says as he struggles to find a tact in one of the kitchen drawers, "calendar." He makes a quiet  _a-ha_  sound when he finds one and then puts the two together as he lines them up on the wall. The calendar slaps against the wall as he picks out the right month, "You use a calendar to track the date." He finishes as he successfully pins it to the wall.

He pulls a black pen from his pocket, "You cross off the days that have already passed," he says as he does so, "and use it to track certain events on days going forward." He flips the calendar to March and circles the third Friday, before letting it fall back down. "I'm gonna teach you how to count, read and mark a cal—hey!"

When Hopper turns, the plastic bag is over Eleven's head.

"Get that off!" Eleven pulls it off, and it falls to the floor in a heap. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to do that? You could suffocate!"

"It's off," Eleven mutters, taking her time walking over to him.

"Damn kid," Hopper grumbles under his breath, before locking eyes with her. "No plastic bags on your head. They're not hats." Eleven nods, and then points to the calendar.

"Calendar?"

Hopper sighs, "Yeah kid. C'mere, I'll show you."

Eleven picks up how to use the calendar pretty fast over the next few weeks and Hopper's okay with admitting that he's proud of her.

* * *

**MARCH**

The kid can't stop fidgeting from the moment he gets into the car, and Hopper's patience is wearing thin already as they make their way to the cabin. To the knowledge of Mike's parents, he was staying over Will's house for the night with his sister to get a last-minute project done for school the following Monday, so he had gathered his things, snatched a box of Eggos from the freezer and grabbed Rory from his bookshelf before meeting Nancy downstairs.

Together they had headed outside to meet Jonathan at his car, who greeted Mike with a wave and Nancy with a smile. Hopper had talked with Mike and Nancy about how exactly they were going to get him to the cabin in one piece without any suspicion from their parents or anyone keeping an eye on the situation, and Jonathan had been the one to come up with the idea of a sleepover, and everything had gone smoothly from there.

Getting to Will's house had been easy, and Nancy tagging along kept the car alive with conversation on the way over. Once there, Mike hung out with Will for a bit while he waited for Hopper to show, and as soon as Mike had heard the sound of tires on gravel outside the window he was seizing his things and running out the door.

The older man wasn't too worried about picking up Mike from the Byers' home and then going straight to the cabin; everything had been quiet and calm enough that Hopper was able to not completely freak out about the whole ordeal. He hadn't heard anything on the wire about the government poking their noses into anyone's business or a peep from the good doctor, so his paranoia wasn't as bad as it had been a few months prior.

But he still told all the kids to keep it on the down-low and that the rest of them would all be able to see Eleven again soon. Mike was just the unanimous decision for the time being.

As Hopper presses the brake at the spotting of a stray deer running across the road, he turns his head and shoots the boy a glare. "Knock it off," he grunts, holding his stare long enough to see Mike stop fidgeting, before turning his sight back to the road.

"Sorry." Mike states, directing his attention out the passenger window.

Hopper risks a glance and exhales slowly as he looks around for any more deer before jamming his foot back over the gas pedal. He's already itching for a cigarette. Maybe it's because the kid's nerves are causing his nerves to go through the roof. It's nearing five-thirty, and the world around them is lit in an orange glow.

"Are you excited to see her?" He asks gruffly, and the words seem like an understatement when Mike looks over at the police chief.

"Of course. It—I-It's been like four months since the dance and I miss her like crazy." He seems to stop himself before he talks too much, sinking back against the ripped-up seat. Hopper flicks on his turn signal as they approach the last turn, fingers ticking against the wheel. "She uh," he mumbles slowly as he turns, "she's missed you too."

Hopper catches the smile that the boy clearly tries to hide.

Eleven enjoys talking about Mike, and Hopper's gotten used to the constant use of his name in nearly every dinner conversation. He doesn't mind. He doesn't have to worry about anything yet because of how young they are. He'll dedicate more time into worrying when they're older and able to sneak off and be teenagers. But for now, Hopper's relaxed.

He knows how much they care for each other, and he knows Mike would do anything to protect her and never hurt her. Mike reminds Hopper of when he was a kid. Although Hopper remembers his younger self being a little less stupid.

"Are we almost there?" The words are basically a disorderly mess as they escape Mike's mouth and Hopper has to take a moment to understand what was said. Hopper doesn't know if it's excitement, nerves, or worry that causes the rush of words. He figures it's a mix of all three.

"Yeah," he mutters, "almost."

The rest of the drive is spent in silence, and when Hopper pulls off to the side of the road and shuts off the engine, Mike's hand reaches for the door lighting fast. Hopper stops him with a sharp, "Wait." Mike freezes, and turns back, a frown etched on his face.

"Rule number one," he says as he holds up one finger, "no funny business. Don't mess with the house, don't move my things, and don't try to pull any pranks."

A second finger goes up, "Rule number two. Don't leave the house. Do not go anywhere near the door or the windows. You are stuck inside the house until tomorrow night." He puts down his hand before the third rule, knowing his point's gotten across.

"Finally, rule number three. Do. Not. Touch. My. Gun." Mike looks thoughtful for a second and then like he's going to object, but Hopper doesn't give him time to reply with a cocky remark. "Understood?" Mike's stubborn expression falters. Hopper figures he's thought of the consequences and rather see Eleven than say something smart and have to hike home.

"Yeah, yeah, understood. Can we go now? Please?"

Hopper rolls his eyes as he opens his door and exits the truck, taking his hat from the dashboard and placing it over his head. Both doors slam shut and Hopper meets Mike on the other side of the truck, wordlessly taking the heavier of his two bags from his hands. "Thanks," Mike says, following Hopper when he starts walking forward with no reply.

They walk for a few minutes and then Hopper steps over something Mike doesn't see, but he turns and shows him once he's close enough. "Tripwire," he explains, showing him the start and finish, "if someone trips it, it'll be as loud as a gunshot." Mike nods and carefully steps over it, filing away the information in the back of his brain. When Mike looks up again he's met by the sight of the cabin, and his heart beats faster.

_Finally_.

It takes all the patience Mike has to not run up to the door and burst through it, and instead he trails behind Hopper, excitement bubbling in his veins. When they reach the front door Hopper glances back at Mike, raised fist hovering a few centimeters from the rotted wood of the door.

"Ready, kid?" He asks, and Mike stares for a moment but then nods his head.

"I'm ready."

Hopper knocks on the door, a pattern of taps Mike doesn't recognize, and they only have to wait a few seconds before there's a loud click. Hopper opens the door and ushers Mike in first before following. The living room's empty, but the television is on; the evening news crackles throughout the cabin. The police chief walks over and turns down the volume before knocking quietly on Eleven's bedroom door.

"Hey kiddo," he says, and Mike's slightly shocked at the one-eighty Hopper's attitude has taken, "you feeling okay? There's someone here to see you but if you're not feeling up to it he can—"

The door opens so fast that Hopper loses his balance and nearly falls down but his grumbled, "Watch it," goes unheard as the two young teens gape at each other. They're frozen in place, and tears are already pricking at the back of Eleven's eyes. It's only when Mike's backpack slides from his shoulder does the air return to the room, and the two vault themselves towards each other in a hug. Even Hopper has trouble keeping the smile off his face at the reunion, and he stays put for a second before heading over to the kitchen to give them a little bit of privacy.

Meanwhile, Eleven and Mike hug each other tight, their laughter mixed with tears, their emotions running high.

"Mike," Eleven whispers, her voice small.

"Hi," he responds, his voice cracking just a little, though later he'll blame it on the dry heat circling through the place. They pull back from each other and then step back. "How are you?" Mike asks, bouncing on the heels of his feet, unable to stand still.

"I've been okay," Eleven answers, smiling. Mike nods, and he can't hide his enthusiasm any longer with what he's been waiting to tell her for all these months.

"Guess what." He says, grinning from ear to ear.

"What?"

"Will's making a comic book!"

Eleven's eyebrows knit together, "What's a comic book?"

"Oh yeah sorry—a comic book is the opposite of a regular book. Instead of just words there's pictures and it's  _way_  more exciting to read. I'll have to bring you some, if I can't find mine I know Dustin's got some laying around. But anyway—"

He starts to gesture his arms around like he does when he's happy, mouth moving a mile a minute.

"—Will's comic is about everything that's happened with the Demogorgon and the Shadow Monster. He's drawn all of us and it's amazing so far. I can't wait for him to finish it, it's going to be great. We also think Lucas and Max are seeing each other, but we're still not one-hundred percent sure. They always sneak off during science, like leave the room at the same time, and then come back later on. Mr. Clark's asked us about it, but we've covered their asses more times than I can count and—"

Hopper walks over and takes a seat at the small table, three plates of warmed-up Eggos spread out in front of him. "Alright, alright," he protests, taking a short swig of his beer, "get over here and eat dinner. You'll have plenty of time to finish talkin' after."

Dinner's an interesting affair; Mike and Eleven talk the entire time.

Hopper smiles when Eleven smiles.

(So does Mike.)

* * *

Hopper forbids the two from sharing a bed, so they settle on the couch. Mike's leaning against the arm, and Eleven's snuggled up to his side, her head lightly resting on his shoulder. A thin fleece blanket is thrown over the two, and they're holding hands underneath. The television is on a random channel and the volume turned down low, and Mike's fighting sleep the best he can because sleep means tomorrow and tomorrow is when he has to go back home.

He doesn't want to go back home; he could stay with Eleven forever and never get bored. Hopper's snoring away softly in Eleven's room, the door propped open, his pistol and holster resting on the nightstand beside him just in case.

After they all stuffed themselves full of waffles for dinner, the three had migrated to the couch and just talked. Hopper opted out of the conversation after an hour, falling asleep rather fast. Mike and Eleven stayed up for hours messing around and talking, and soon sleep found Eleven too, leaving just Mike awake. He was losing the fight, and sleep was tugging at his eyelids.

Finally deciding just to give up, his eyes slip close but within seconds they're back open because of Eleven. Blinkingly groggily, he glances down at her, and she's fidgeting horrible, and mumbling under her breath. Mike's heart speeds up from fear, and a part of him worries if he should go get Hopper, but then her hand clutches his tighter, and his heart slows down again. He's here now.

Maybe instead of Hopper, he's enough?

Exhaling slowly, Mike squeezes her hand back and wraps his other arm around her gently, carefully. Her fidgeting starts to still, and Mike takes it as a small victory. "I'm here El," he murmurs, and her soft whispers stop, "I'm right here."

The television hums with laughter from the audience of the show and Mike closes his eyes, keeping a hold on Eleven.

"Always," he promises, drifting off into sleep.

"Always." Eleven whispers a few moments later because she knows he means it.

She knows he means every word. Because friends don't lie. And she doesn't worry, either.

Because the strangest things are the things we least expect.


End file.
